“We should,” she agreed, gasping when he came to the juncture of her thighs. His fingers rubbed her moist folds through the thin cotton sheets, dampening the fabric with her desire.

“Later,” he growled against her mouth, wrenching the sheets free and sinking into her with one thrust, filling her completely.

Gideon was still smiling when he stepped from the shower. Not until he wiped the mirror with his towel and stared at himself did the fool grin slip from his face. He swept his wet hair back from his forehead and stared starkly at himself, wondering just what the hell he was doing grinning like a love-struck fool over a woman under a death sentence.

If Claire was going to have a chance, he had to end this thing between them now. He couldn’t languish away the time in bed with her, no matter how good she made him feel. For the first time in his life he could forget. She made him forget. The ugliness of his parents’ deaths, the long years of killing, the blood. He had killed so much that when he closed his eyes he saw nothing but blood. With Claire, all that vanished. He saw only her. He felt only peace.

But any peace he found would be lost forever if he had to destroy her. Determined to keep her at arm’s length, he sighed and secured the towel about his waist. Opening the bathroom door, he braced himself as though walking into battle. Facing Claire and keeping his hands to himself would require more strength than even he was accustomed to.

He froze at the sight of her. Humming softly, she stretched over the bed, pulling the covers the last of the way up and plumping the pillows. It was a purely domestic scene. The kind of task one’s wife performed. The kind of thing his mother had done.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

She looked up and bestowed a bright smile on him. At his glower, her smile grew hesitant. “Making the bed.”

Turning, he marched into his closet and proceeded to dress.

“Is something wrong? Gideon?” He heard the confusion in her voice and fought back his impulse to reassure her, to take her in his arms and kiss her until he forgot what she was, what he had to save her from becoming.

“Nothing,” he replied, strapping on his holster and gun. “We have a lot of ground to cover today. Let’s get going.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Dogs are proud creatures and often find it difficult to back down from a challenge.

—Man’s Best Friend: An Essential Guide to Dogs